"You Should be Here"

Moiz proposed!

Those two words carry so much joy… and so much ache. It’s a moment filled with excitement, laughter, and happy tears—but without you, it doesn’t feel whole.

She said yes, of course. You would’ve been the loudest cheerleader in the room, probably already planning the playlist, picking out outfits, and sending snaps to everyone. You were always a few steps ahead when it came to these things. Your excitement was infectious, your heart impossibly generous.

What makes this even more special is how it all began—Moiz was your friend first. He was there when you needed someone most. He showed up without needing to be asked. And somehow, through you, he became part of her world too. That kind of connection doesn’t just happen—it grows from something real, something rare. You saw that long before the rest of us did.

I still remember the day you called me, half amused and half exasperated, and said:"What are you doing! You can't dictate who Didi is going to date! She's 19 and can make her own decisions!"You were so sure. So protective of her independence. So convinced they had something real. You approved of him before anyone else did—and you never let me forget it.

And now here we are, years later, watching that love grow into something official. Permanent. Sacred. The kind of love that only deepens with time.

We’re celebrating, we’re planning, we’re laughing—and then we stop, and feel it. That ache. That missing piece. We carry you into every conversation, every decision. We say, “She would’ve loved this,” or “She would’ve hated this,” and then we sit quietly with the weight of your absence.

You are everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

Moiz proposed. And she’s glowing—radiant, the happiest I’ve ever seen her. And we’re all holding this bittersweet joy together, wrapped in love and missing.

You should be here. But I hope you know—you still are.